


In his Keep

by MyStarShine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Internalized racism, M/M, Mentions of Racism, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyStarShine/pseuds/MyStarShine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short snippets inspired by drabble prompts mostly focusing around Dorian/Lavellan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> beginning. accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.
> 
> I say it's a drabble challenge, but if they grow into short stories then I'm not going to confine myself.

Mahanon wasn’t the man that Dorian first met when they tumbled back in time. The man was incredibly capable, but it was clear that as he moved through Redcliffe Castle that he was stepping as though he were going to snap branches. It was even more noticeable when they arrived in Skyhold and it was much more difficult to slip away unnoticed for a moment of peace like he had at Haven. Instead of slipping away from walls of stone he would drink with The Iron Bull while lurching forward as the alcohol burned his throat. Instead of sharing the views of his people, he would sit and patiently listen as Cassandra shared her faith. He was slowly becoming a man that poured over maps of cities and towns he could have never imagined visiting a short lifetime ago.

“Just lay with me,” Lavellan said. The plea in his voice seemed simple, but to Dorian it was heart breaking. So he found himself on his knees in the cool damp grass beside the other man.

“You are cruel, getting my clothes all damp,” Dorian said not meaning it, never meaning it.

“I've missed this. The sounds. There are only Ravens in Skyhold,” he whispered as the birds flitted and sang above their heads.

Dorian watched the man’s face which was speckled with the shadows of light filtering through the leaves of the Emerald Graves. Silently he reached between them and laced their fingers together and held on hoping to keep this man beside him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> beginning. accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.

**Flame**

It was devastation, nothing but sheer destruction in its path. The creature convulsed and in its last defense expelled a final hissing and roaring scorch below it before gracefully collapsing to the ground. All Dorian could hear was the chilling cry of pain as Lavellan crumpled beside the high dragon and his spectral blade faded into the air. The flesh up his neck was twisting and bubbling in anger. Dorian knew the heat of flame. He knew the discomfort and pain that came with simply being near such an impressive display, but to be immersed in it? Unthinkable. To watch his lover fall? Even more so.

“There is a camp, nearby they will have proper healers!” it was Solas as he ran to the Inquisitor’s side to do what he could to sooth the pain. Dorian should have rushed over there, he should have been doing the same, and he should have run to find aid. He should have been doing anything else other than watch as Lavellan drew in deep, quickening and terrifying breaths as the shock took over, consuming just as the flame had.

 

**Accusation**

Lavellan lay in a cot back at the camp unconscious, but safe from the ordeal. His flesh was still angry and red but the healers had done what they could to mend the burns as best they could. Now it was time to wait. Dorian couldn’t watch any longer, so he stepped outside and saw Solas and The Iron Bull sitting around the camp fire quiet in the melancholic atmosphere.

“Your barriers are the cause of this,” Dorian finally said.

“I beg your pardon?” Solas said looking up from where his gaze rested on the flame.

“Had you done your job properly and cast a proper barrier he wouldn’t be injured!” Dorian said angrily. This was a different anger, this wasn’t the stressed out pacing and complaining about trivial things that he was used to doing when upset. He was absolutely livid.

“We know the risks of hunting such magnificent creatures. It was not I who simply stood and did nothing when he fell,” Solas said, his eyes narrowed in a calculating manner.

“He has not fallen!” Dorian hissed as the guilt spread thick over his heart.

“For the love of…knock it off you two,” The Iron Bull said as he placed his hands on his knees and stood. “This shit isn’t anyone’s fault.”

“He is correct, and I apologize,” Solas said, but something in the manner of his movement suggested his offense was still there.

Dorian let out a breath and glanced toward the tent where Lavellan lay sleeping, “Right, right, apologies and all those wonderful sorts of things,” he said dismissively. Perhaps the Qunari was correct. 

 

**Restless**

Lavellan breathed in deeply through his nose as Dorian shifted once more in their bed. He had been this way since they had returned from their dragon hunt. “Dorian, what’s wrong?” He asked as he stretched and sat up. He could still feel the faintest tug at his neck where the open burns once resided.

“I have no idea what you speak of,” Dorian said and ran his palms down his face.

“Then you are far less observant than I initially thought,” he said. There was a touch of humour that didn’t have the usual playful bite.

“It’s too late in the night for wit,” Dorian muttered.

“Dorian…” it was one of those times that an expression probably would have undone the other man, but it was too dark and the moonlight hadn’t quite reached the bed. Lavellan leaned over Dorian then and his fingers gently carded through the man’s hair.

“I thought we spoke about the hair,” Dorian said quietly.

“We did, I’m choosing to ignore your constant need to preen,” he said with a bittersweet smile on his face.

“I froze…when I saw you fall, I froze and did nothing. I was completely and utterly useless, which is madness. I’m incredibly resourceful, being useless is a completely foreign thing to me,” he started.

“Ah…” Lavellan didn’t stop the gentle motion through Dorian’s hair.

“I should have run to your side. You’re not supposed to perish until you face the evil of all evils. Do you not even know how to be a hero? I wasn’t prepared for your ineptitude in heroism,” Dorian asked.

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” he murmured ignoring Dorian’s rambling.

“I wasn’t frightened,” Dorian said in absurdity. Lavellan decided to let the apology hang and sure enough Dorian spoke again. “I was terrified…”

Lavellan breathed in deeply before he leaned down and pressed his lips to Dorian’s forehead. “Next time we won’t let our guard down,” he said.

“Next time,” he scoffed. “You can’t be doing this to me, I’m not meant to turn grey for at least another lifetime,” Dorian muttered.

“Sleep, Dorian. We’re back, and we’re safe,” he murmured.

“Yes, fine, fine,” he said.

Lavellan could feel the tension slowly slipping from Dorian’s body. He eventually sank back down to the bed. His fingers didn’t stop caressing silky tresses until Dorian’s breathing eventually evened out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> beginning. accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.

**Future**

Lavellan held Dorian’s gaze despite the falter in his composure. Emotional blackmail…a joke, but it held a thread of truth. Dorian did that sometimes, said hurtful things, meant hurtful things and then tried to play them off as if they didn’t hang in the air long after they should.

“…inspired me with your marvellous antics,” Dorian said, smirk on his face before he continued on.

“Right…I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this talk came a little sooner than expected. You are one to rush,” Lavellan said quietly after Dorian finished his small speech. He should be familiar with the bottom of his world falling out, it happened often enough.

“You’re taking this a lot harder than I expected…” Dorian said in a speculating tone.

The air rushed out of his body. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to forgive my emotions. I’ll be more understanding later. I need a moment,” he said and with the dip of his chin before he turned and left. He could hear the silky hum of Dorian’s voice, but could make nothing of it.

**Promise**

“I half expected to find you in the courtyard,” Dorian’s voice sounded from behind him.

Mahanon was seated on the balcony oriented toward the foot of his bed. One leg hung over the edge as he stared through the bars. “Because I’m Dalish?” he said quietly, perhaps with more bite than necessary.

“Because you’re you,” Dorian said.

“So where does this put us?” he asked.

“So you’re open to discussion? You won’t simply get angry and storm away?” Dorian asked.

He turned to look at Dorian with a firm frown on his face. “I told you that I needed a moment, not that the discussion was over,” part of him admired Dorian. He was the voice of change in a world overflowing with tradition. “Tevinter is likely not the most suitable place for an elf. My offer to go with you was ill thought out,” he said.

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be,” Dorian’s views on slavery hadn’t changed much. At least, they hadn’t spoken about it since Lavellan grew angry with him when they had first become acquainted. “I don’t want to leave…” he said quietly.

“You need to,” Lavellan said as his gaze turned to the moonlit mountains. “You’re right, it’s something you have to do,” he nodded.

“We’ll write…” Dorian said. “This doesn’t have to be an end. It’s not as if I couldn’t come back, it’s no secret that I find the south so quaint and cosy,” he said and Mahanon could hear the smirk on his face.

“And when you’re done saving Tevinter from itself, I’ll be here, Ma Vhenan,” he said as his voice rasped out into near inaudibility speaking words he never had before. Mahanon felt Dorian’s hand on his face and a comforting warmth spread through him as Dorian guided their lips together. The kiss was tender and familiar.

“Good,” Dorian said quietly.

“You’re wrong about me. I’m not the inspiring one, Dorian. You're driven by the love of your country, your own will. I’m merely pushed by circumstance, it’s not as powerful,” Mahanon said.

“Don’t play the fool Amatus, you’re no good at it,” was all Dorian said before resting their foreheads together.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knowledge and Tremble

**Knowledge**

“Not that the Inquisitor isn’t a vision, but don’t you think your gaze is a little…focused?” Dorian said as he tipped his pint back. He would have thought that someone who was supposedly so grand at all of that spy business would know that he and the Inquisitor were involved.

“Jealous?” Bull said in a gruff tone. His eyes didn’t stray from the elf who was across the tavern talking to the tender.

“What?” Dorian said, incredulously with a hand on his chest. “I’m quite secure in this relationship. Have you seen me? I’m beyond handsome,” Dorian said.

“If you have a want for that sort of thing,” Bull said with a smirk.

Dorian’s eyes narrowed, “What are you suggesting?”

“Retract your claws, Vint, that’s not what this is about,” Bull said.

“Why don’t you share what the meaning behind your gaze’s vice grip on my…lover then?” Dorian muttered. Really, he shouldn’t care, it was just The Iron Bull after all.

“He’s tense,” he said and Dorian turned to view the Inquisitor. He didn’t see it. “His jaw. From time to time he…does that,” he said thoughtfully. The Inquisitor tipped his head from side to side.

“And?” Dorian said. He made to take another drink, but stopped it at his lips before he could taste the piss they attempted to pass off for tasteful liquor.

“He can’t relax his jaw, and he’s trying to force it. This kind of behaviour usually follows bigger issues. You wouldn’t have noticed since you had just arrived and likely weren’t paying attention, but just after Haven he was practically vibrating because he couldn’t relax,” Bull was silent as he took another drink. Mahanon had leaned over the counter and had Bull not said anything Dorian might have been offended that Bull continued to stare. “He just came down the stairs…cracking his knuckles. My guess is that the elf girl said something,” Bull finished.

“Sera?”

“Yes, her, she has a knack for not knowing how to interact properly with anything that has a pulse…” Bull said.

“That might be the most accurate picture you’ve painted all day,” he said.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Bull said.

“Relationship advice, you?” Dorian’s brow raised as he finally tipped his mug back and took a drink.

“You’re right, he probably should talk to someone who doesn’t end their problems at the bottom of a bottle.”

“You’re rude, you know that?” The only thing Dorian received in response was laughter.

 

**Tremble**

“You’re wearing a trail into the rug. As atrocious as it is, perhaps you should slow down,” Dorian said. He’d arrived in their quarters not ten minutes earlier and Mahanon hadn’t stopped moving.

“You’re welcome to leave if I’m bothering you,” he said as he ran his fingers through his hair. He simply turned and walked to the other side of the room.

“And deprive you of my wonderful company? I’d never dream of it, Inquisitor,” Dorian said.

“I have a name, and when we’re here, I’d rather you use it,” Mahnon said with a frown.

“What’s all of this about, Mahanon?” Dorian said, a little surprised at the request. The elf tipped his head from side to side and stretched out his neck. Bull might be a spy, but Dorian wondered how he had never noticed the quirk before.

“I guess it’s better than Herald of fucking Andraste of all things,” he muttered before he cracked his knuckles.

“I see you’ve formed the lovely human habit of cursing,” Dorian observed.

“It is lovely, isn’t? I may as well learn these wonderful Shemlan ways. It’s not as if being Dalish affords me anything at all,” he said with a heavy breath.

Dorian stood from the small couch and moved to take Mahanon’s wrist, but was quickly brushed off. “Are the common-folk giving you trouble?” Dorian said.

“Make jokes Dorian,” he said levelling him with a glare.

“I wouldn’t…” he started. He really wouldn’t. “What happened?”

The elf finally stopped moving and stared at Dorian. He was framed in the door to the balcony, his long hair pooled over his shoulder looking lost. “I’m not here because of the anchor…I’m not here because I want to uplift elves, or because I believe in the maker or not and I’m trying to prove something. I’m here because it’s the right thing to do. It’s difficult to be away from the only life I’ve ever known. I wear my heritage on my face Dorian, and everyone expects me to be arrogant or ashamed. If it’s not about their precious humans or precious Andraste then no one cares about me, and I can take it from Shems who’d rather work with dwarves than elves, or Orlesian nobles, but not here…”

“What did they say?” Dorian said referring to the most likely culprits, Sera, Solas, or Cassandra.

“Probably nothing worth mentioning,” He said, looking incredibly small whereas he stood so magnificent everywhere except within Skyhold.

“If it has you this upset, it has to be something,” Dorian finally closed the distance between them and this time Mahanon didn’t try to evade him.

“I’m an elf, that’s crime enough isn’t it? Not just that, I’m Dalish. Not only can you go where I cannot follow, but I can’t express myself or even be present without the population determining and diminishing my worth on sight. The only mistake I’ve ever made was being born, and it’s something everyone likes to remind me of,” Mahanon said, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh like he was trying to exhale all the tension and misery. This was a feeling Dorian knew very well, but there was much more than this and he was sure they’d have to revisit the fact that Dorian intended to return to Tevinter, but there were more pressing matters at hand. “I’m sorry, I’ll be fin—“

Dorian reached forward and his hands rested on Mahanon’s jaw forcing a lip lock between them. “—you are not a mistake,” Dorian whispered between their lips, for once meaning every word of it.

Mahanon’s eyes opened slowly and his brow furrowed. “Dorian,” he thought for a moment he might have to press the issue further, but instead felt another kiss pressed into his mouth with a tremor of desperation.


End file.
